


Hold Me (Closer)

by s_c_writ



Series: ShukitaWeek2019 [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Description of Nightmares, M/M, Nightmares, vague descriptions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 18:49:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18504931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_c_writ/pseuds/s_c_writ
Summary: Yusuke has nightmares. So does Akira. There's a simple solution.Written for ShukitaWeek!





	Hold Me (Closer)

 

_ Darkness. _

 

_ Yusuke hasn’t been afraid of the dark in years. He couldn’t afford to be anymore. But right now, the black emptiness looms around him, choking him and filling his lungs with panic. He knows his eyes are open, but the darkness is so thick and opaque that he can’t see his hand less than an inch in front of him. A distant voice shouts his name, but he bodily flinches away. _

 

_ “No...Sensei…” _

 

_ His voice is soft and young, and all of a sudden, his vision clears of the darkness. There’s weak light streaming in through slats in the closet, and a tall, looming figure is visible through them. Madarame has a put-upon look on his wrinkled face. Yusuke vaguely remembers associating that face with kindness and safety once, but now he only feels despair and fury. He remembers feeling hopeless and stuck in his horrible life until that fateful day at the gallery opening, when Akira noticed him and noticed his painting and praised him with sad, knowing grey eyes. _

 

_ He’s a child once more, terrified and locked in his closet as a punishment for something. Yusuke has no idea what he’s supposed to have done in his dream, but the hunger clawing at his stomach and making him lightheaded tells him that it’s been a long time. Panic burns the back of his throat when Madarame's cruel laugh rings through the heavy air. Golden eyes peer at him through the slats of the closet door, and Yusuke’s heart stutters painfully. _

 

_ “Oh, Yusuke. You know I don’t like to do this to you. Why can’t you just obey?” _

 

_ Terror seizes control of his innards and twists them, forcing him onto his hands and knees as he gags and heaves bitter yellow bile, stomach too empty to turn anything back up. He swallows hard, throat burning, and dissolves into a coughing fit. _

 

Yusuke shoots up in bed, shaking hands coming to touch his throat as he doubles over and coughs, hot tears pattering down onto the blankets. He stifles himself with a hand before laying back down, curling on his side and sobbing softly until he’s too exhausted to stay conscious anymore and he sinks into warm, comforting darkness that doesn’t make him think, doesn't make him remember.

  
  


II.

 

_ He’s underwater. There are words being shouted around him, but they’re muffled from the water and he can’t understand them. His limbs are heavy and cold, and he can’t control anything or really feel anything beyond the cold except for a sharp, piercing throb in the back of his neck. _

 

_ Akira tries to open his eyes, but they’re glued shut. He tries to move his arms, but they’re stuck behind him. He tries to say something, but his tongue is too big for his mouth and muffles any sound he tries to make. _

 

_ Sudden pain explodes against his face, followed by freezing water that shocks his eyes open. A dark, faceless man looms over him and hits him again, his neck cracking with the force. A hoarse cry rips from him, but that only makes the man more angry, and he kicks him straight in the chest, a resounding crack marking a broken rib before he crashes against the ground, head slamming down and bringing everything into too-bright focus. A dark shoe grinds his hand into the ground behind him, but at this point, Akira’s veins have flooded with heavy apathy, and he closes his eyes against the cracking of his bones, ignoring a whimper of pain that comes from his own lips.  _

 

_ A harsh voice shouts at him again, but he can’t understand any of the words. He gets pummels and bruised and broken until it all stops. Silence has fallen except a single pair of quiet footsteps coming towards him. The footsteps stop, and he’s hauled upright, broken hands unbound. Akira looks up, cold with fear, to meet Akechi’s sad crimson eyes. The former detective is in his shredded Black Mask costume, blood dried and flaking on his body from multiple fatal wounds all over his body. _

 

_ He blinks, and Akechi is holding a gun to his forehead, regret and pain clear on his face. _

 

_ “I’m sorry.” _

 

Akira blinks awake, heart racing. He sits up and looks around slowly, taking a moment before recognizing his room back in Inaba. His legs are cold where Morgana used to sleep when he was in Tokyo, and that is all it takes before he’s curling his knees to his chest and hugging himself as he allows himself to cry. His breath catches in his throat, but he pushes his face into his knees to muffles the sobs before they come. His eyes burn. He’d thought he had control over the nightmares at this point, but they continue to pop up and terrorize him when he least expects it.

 

They’ve become a constant companion when all his others are away in Tokyo. The only ones that know they still happen are Yusuke and his therapist, neither of whom he's been able to see since he got pulled back to Inaba and his parents’ cold, empty house.

  
  
  
  


III.

 

_ Everything was warm. Akira was warm and felt safe, a heavy weight pressing to his back and resting around his waist. He dared to open his eyes, and was met with benevolent darkness. It felt like a blanket tucked around him to keep him safe and comfortable. A soft breath puffs against his neck, and he turns his head just enough to see Yusuke asleep, curled around him as the source of the weight on his body. A small smile tilts his lips up slightly, and the warmth around him floods into his body. _

 

_ He turns over and burrows into Yusuke’s arms, grumbling happily when the arms around him tighten and a nose buries itself in his hair. _

 

Yusuke blinks awake slowly, his sleepy brain taking a minute to realize what woke him up. A fuzzy head of curly black hair is tucked under his chin and lithe fingers spread on his bare back, sleepily stroking along his spine. A shiver runs up him, and he presses a kiss to the top of Akira’s head, gently shifting him closer and tightening his hold. The fingers on his back settle, and the artist’s heart clenches when his boyfriend makes a soft, content sound in his sleep. 

 

Since moving in together after starting university, Yusuke’s dreams have been peaceful and quiet. Judging by the lack of distress in his sleep, he assumes that Akira’s nightmares have receded as well, and he smiles faintly at the fact that their solution was so simple. All they needed was each other.


End file.
